Learning War
by Sithstrukk
Summary: He never knew war like this; he never knew the other side. When fighting droids he never knew it. There were three sides to the war; how many knew that? He was still learning war. :: Rating to be on the safe side.


**I got the idea while reading Michael Shaa's "The Killer Angels." Damn good book. There was a line somewhere about some dude learning war, and it really stuck out. So what do I do? Write a fanfiction about it, of course!  
The M rating was just to be on the safe side. I dunno; I'll never get the ratings right on fics. So this is rated M, but in my opinion a mild M, so if you think it warrants just a T rating let me know.**

Younglings were easily cleaved through with a lightsaber. They were small minded and dropped as those cheaper, bulky droids did previously. Yet there was cauterized flesh and rolling limbs of skin and bone instead of droid parts on the floor. It had a different effect on Vader, these cooling bodies on the floor. It didn't matter if they were friend or foe. It boosted his rage.

He'd never felt such red rage before. Not in his lifetime. It was a delirium, a hatred of it all compelled by the lust for power. Through the power his chains were broken. And this power came only through the rage.

So he would kill. He toyed with the weak and vulnerable. He feigned mercy if they pleaded, only to turn on them. If they fought with lightsabers he placidly parried their blows, gave them the illusion of advantage, and finished them off in a barrage of blue light. And on this trail the terror ran deep and ripe, so he gorged himself to supply the dark side throbbing within him.

His Master would be pleased. It was an educational experience; the first of many steps he would take. The best part was he felt no pain turning on his ex comrades. That was his goal: life without pain. And this could only be achieved through training.

Step one: learning war. Learning war the proper way, the way a Master of the dark side fights.

There are three sides to most wars. The two fighting are the center of everything. Then, often invisible, are the manipulators. It's a greedy government or a wealthy donor or a person of power… like a Sith. They're provoking the war, or crafting a war, or ruining a war. The third, invisible side has a crucial war in role. Vader was just beginning to learn this third side of war; manipulation at its finest.

_Manipulation at its finest, _he sneered as he silenced a screaming Padawan with a strike to the neck. He drew in a breath, forcing it down his dry throat. His senses were acute and throw out like a net. It was a new, enlightening felling. It felt great to live like this.

"Lord." A member of the 501st legion drew up beside him. He pointed a gloved finger down the hall, toward the two giant doors that would take them to the Jedi Archives. Anakin acknowledged the dust spattered officer coolly as he took in the debris the squad had created.

"Don't come in until I signal." He didn't take time to wait for the "yes, Lord" that was soon to follow. He deactivated his lightsaber and strode through one of the gigantic doors. The group of clone troopers guarded outside, rifles at the ready.

The Archives was in disarray. Archivists tried to be everywhere at once; securing and safeguarding precious data of all sorts.

"Skywalker!" Jocasta Nu flew over to him. It was not the Jocasta Nu he knew. Her lined face was chalky white and her tight gray bun of hair was loose. "We're under attack." She took a few steps forward and paused, as if forcibly stopped in her tracks. She knew the dark side was at work, and in a matter of seconds she knew something was very different, very wrong, about him.

"Nu," he said as icily as his strained vocal chords would allow. "Let me through."

A lightsaber was in her hand. "No." Vader felt a surge of anger. He almost had to clutch his chest to contain it. "What's behind that door?" Jocasta asked softly, eyes fixed on the Archive entrance.

Vader grit his teeth. _Manipulation at its finest. That is the way. _"I need you to access some files," he said, ignoring her question. "We need to stop them."

"We do," Jocasta said gravely, suddenly unsure of what to do.

Anakin stretched out a hand in offering, a comforting gesture any Jedi would take condolences from. Then, suddenly, he drew his fingers in, half clenching them, fingers shaking from the tension, slowly closing her throat. He drew his lightsaber.

With a summon from the Force the massive doors opened and troops poured through. Fire tore the air and hit whatever was in its path. It would go on that way throughout the Jedi Temple. No one would suspect Anakin Skywalker.

There were easier ways to go about it. But this was perhaps the most effective; the only war to learn war was to learn it firsthand.

**It's just something I wrote at my grandparent's house while we were all sitting around watching one of those British comedy shows. Read and review and lemme know what you think!**


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